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 Jan 2017 Paul Butters
Colm
Wherever they are
Would you let these thoughts and dreams profound
Settle to the base of your stomach

Like that stray grains of coffee grounds
Not filtered through the thinness of society
But strained through the fibers of the heart

Ever flowing from the the mind
Until the truth is boiled down
And at the bottom of the cup found
Have a cup on me my friend. Because life is too short.
 Jan 2017 Paul Butters
Colm
If each wave on the sea
Was but a single life
We would all come crashing down
Around the knees of our children's lives
RIP TBD
 Jan 2017 Paul Butters
Pagan Paul
.
I would write a poem
of bigotry, hatred and contempt.
Using every politically incorrect
name, word, phrase and insult.
A poem of vileness and villainy
of coldness, anger and disgust.
I would bear the onslaught tide
of derision, bile and utter rage.
To show, that beside you my friend,
there are 7 billion ***** in the toilet.

© Pagan Paul (16/01/17)
Just feeling a tad antisocial today.
Some days I just cannot stand being around people.
The trees are getting brighter
leaves are catching fire
The air is getting crisper
I hear a faint whisper
Am I listening to my chest?
or is this a new mindset?
My balance is unsteady
I hope that I'll be ready
I might just fall
The outside change small
Its a new season inside
I'm here for the ride
For The Now I strive
I tell you, Autumn is alive
Written at the park Nov 4th 2012
Rise!* Oh, Mighty Jupiter;
Our Father now forgotten.
Come claim your rightful reverence.
Your pagan pedigree misgotten.

You were once our Shining Father;
Great King of all the Sky.
But you allowed your world to set
so a new Son could arise.

Zeus once ruled before you, and
Jesus became your heir.
Today not many realize
how we got from here to there.

I have considered for some moments
how our thoughts of god do change.
Plural notions of so long ago,
today can seem so strange.

We like to think we've come so far,
since those pagan days of yore.
Have we abandoned superstition
or just embraced it even more?

It was millennia ago
that Zeus ruled Mount Olympus.
He, their leader, more than father,
often beaten by hubris.

The Greeks, they worshiped leaders,
seeking standing in this forum.
Such desires, democratic
became their gods that ruled before them.

As the centuries moved on,
your new Latin home was Roma.
Your title too, transformed
to reflect a new persona.

To Zeus we added "Father",
or in Latin, pater, we prefer.
So Zeus, becomes Zeus-pater,
Zupater, then Jupiter.

Our names for gods reveal
exactly how they fill our needs.
Over time our needs evolve
and so a new name supersedes.

As Rome aged, it developed  
a need to know god as a man.
To be one of his number.
To see themselves as of his clan.

This zeus, he can be talked to,
can be greeted and be known.
They "Hail Zeus" as HeyZeus.
And now its Jesus on the Throne.

Through such inquests we can see
the needs Gods fill evolving,
from cold, covetous Kings
to a begotten Son absolving.

We imagine in the Heavens
things to help us understand,
how a universe so endless
can be the realm alone of man.
on the evolving nature of God
It was her beautiful kindess that drew his heart to her like a butterfly lost in a dream and he could see eternity burning in the deep indigo night pools of her eyes and he felt forevers familiar promise seep into the marrow of his soul and saddly he turned away for the fate of routine was bitter sweet and mixed with doubt and heartache and he would give her no less than the sun and the moon and all the stars from the sky and the sea but he had only a lonely heart to offer and he found himself in the always and never
shadows and light of love
We're all in a time machine
Sitting on a beach
We try and try to hold onto
The sand within our reach
We hold it as a talisman
Though it does not teach
It has no permanence at all
Through our fingers it'll leach

We may not even try to grasp
And this, my friends, is worse
We notice not its passing
While we peruse our purse
We see it not, we are not taught
So it becomes a curse

But placed within an hour glass
The moments slowly rain
We gaze at each crystal
We gaze at every grain
We learn these minutiae
As our moments wane
For they can be so fleeting
Let them not go down the drain!

Life's a sandy shore, my friends.
Its wind will whisper. Talk.
We can breeze along it
We can take long walks
We can collect the shells of hope
Or end up on the rocks.

When we leave our footprints
For others on the way
Whatever will they make of them?
Will they last a day?
Will they shine as gemstones
With many colors gay?
Or will the ocean take them
Out into its grey...

So dance along the sand
But watch the hourglass
You're ensured your prints endure
Though the minutes pass
Make a strong impression

As each step could be your LAST.


SoulSurvivor
1/15/2017
As I get older I have been much more
aware of time's swift passing. It's a truism
that this happens to people as they age...

... because it is TRUE.

HAVE A BLESSED SUNDAY! ♡♡♡
She holds my muse captive in a cage with bars of bamboo
I fear if I don't retrieve it I'll never be completed
Use a scapel to spill my guts on loose leaf, then I delete it
It's unworthy, it's too wordy
Got too much love for you I'd be broken if you heard it
And these days, I'm not too sure who recites it
And these days' I'm indifferent with who likes it
Somedays I don't even know the man who writes it
Scribble a wordy flurry and not understand what incites it
It all feels insightless
A pretentious attempt to be righteous
And what is righteousness?
Staring bold faced at the heart of the abyss
Saying even though it's looming I can't be defined by this
Or lose my mind to this, thinking ignorance is bliss
Enlightenment ensorcelled with the progress of humanity
Standing hand in hand with a communal prosperity
No severalty severity
Trade your famous 15 seconds for just one moment of clarity
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